Him and I
by champagnelaughs
Summary: The question catches the fashion designer off guard. Everyone always assumed that she was. She has the look, the car, and the right people surrounding her. She has money, power, and accomplishments, but none of it mattered. It wasn't enough for Brooke.


**Him and I**

 _Maybe that's it. We eventually go numb; because you can't break a heart that's already broken._

* * *

Her tired hazel eyes slowly scanned her home. Her quiet, isolated loft with sleek furniture and a few personal items. It was the breath taking view of New York City that won Brooke over when she first moved to the Big Apple. It was her home, but it felt more like a prison now. A very upscaled prison where the prison warden was Victoria and Brooke was stuck in isolation. She had become numb to always being alone. Eating dinner alone, sleeping alone. It was nothing new for the fashion designer who was always surrendered by people who only cared about money, or being seeing with her. All fake – everyone. _  
_

This was her life now. Attending events with handsome men who Victoria hand picked because it would do wonders for her image which always caused a humorless laugh to escaped pass Brooke's stained red lips. Her image, _right_. More like Victoria would take _her_ date home and fuck him. She also always attended fashion shows alone and sat in the front row, only to sit there in silence with a smile painted on her face that never quite reached her eyes.

Hiring Rachel as a model for her company had helped with the emptiness – this darkness that was slowing taking over, but her drug addiction was becoming a problem and one that Victoria wanted to be silenced fasted. _The papers cannot find out about this, Brooke_. Even now the conversation put the fashion designer on edge. _Think of the company – our future._ Rachel was her only friend here. She couldn't just fire here. She needed help. . . Support, but Victoria just scoffed with a roll of her eyes when Brooke tried to protest causing the younger Davis to pressure her black painted nails into the palms of her hands causing small crescent moons to form on her pale skin.

" _Brooke, Clothes Over Bro's is a multimillion dollar company. A company that you've entrusted to me to make executive decisions like these. We have to cut her loose."_

" _You're gonna fire her?"_

" _No, I'm not gonna fire her. You're gonna fire her. It's your company, my dear. I just work here."_

The screen on her iPhone had gone dark now as Brooke's thoughts drifted away. Her dinner half eaten in front of her, and just looking at it caused her stomach to knot up as guilt seeped in. _I'm a horrible person. I should have stood my ground instead of firing Rachel._ There was nothing left for Brooke to do now, only hope that Rachel would take her offer to go to rehab, fully paid for in Upstate New York. It was the best Brooke could do at such short notice and without Victoria finding out. She didn't need nor want another screaming match with her mother over her poor judgment when it comes to friends _again_.

 _Friends._

Her mind went to Haley, Nathan and their perfect little boy. The one person that could always make her smile now, but not tonight. Tonight, nothing could cure this darkness that wrapped its self around her like a cold, wet blanket.

With a soft sigh, Brooke quickly stood up, grabbed her iPhone and headed straight for her living room couch. With a shaky hand, Brooke unlocked her screen, leaded back on the oversize pillows and tucked her feet under her legs. Her finger ghosted over the call button, as she bit her bottom lip. It was late, and did she really need to bug someone with her problems? Would they roll their eyes as she explained how her depression had gotten worst? Would they understand that the more money she made and the more famous she became, the deeper she fell into the darkness?

With unknown courage, Brooke hit the send button.

"Hey. . . Were you sleeping?" She asked after a sluggish voice answered. " – I – um – I can call back..." her voice trailed off, already beating herself up for becoming a burden.

"It's fine. Are you okay?"

Brooke could feel tears forming as the question was asked of her. "I needed to hear your voice, you know?" She paused, trying to form the right words. " – I just miss it all."

"Are you happy, Brooke?" The voice on the other end asked as they pushed themselves into a sitting position. Tired eyes glance over at the alarm clock.

The question catches the fashion designer off guard. Everyone always assumed that she was. She has the look, the car, and the right people surrounding her. She has money, power, and accomplishments, but none of it mattered. It wasn't enough for Brooke. _Because I have all those things, and... and I don't think it's enough._ "Sometimes. Not always. Are you?"

"No." They replied back, pushing the covers off their body and headed for the attached bathroom.

There was a long pause, a comfortable silence between the two before Brooke spoke again. "He – he would have been three years old today." Her raspy voice barely above a whisper, her heart breaks as the emotions Brooke had been holding back for so long break down her walls.

"I know." Was his only reply, as he ran his free hand through his hair. "I know, Brooke." Jake Jagielski voice cracks as he thinks of _their_ son.

* * *

 **AN:** Hello, everyone! Honestly, you can thank _kmgproductionz_ for this story. Still debating if this is going to be a one-shot or a multi-chapter story.


End file.
